


First pancake

by lady_valkyria



Series: Something just like this [6]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Autumn Classic International 2017, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mama Hanyu knows what's up, The Pancake Metaphor (TM), paper swans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 11:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12210084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_valkyria/pseuds/lady_valkyria
Summary: It’s just like the first pancake, Brian had said. As weird as the analogy was, Yuzuru finds that it fits.(A look at ACI's immediate aftermath and starting to let go)





	First pancake

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see! My muse took the off-season quite literally and ran away for a while, but I'm ~~hopefully~~ wrestling them back into compliance \o/
> 
> This time, _italics_ are for Japanese.

 

 

_"You’re sure you don’t want anything else to eat? I can go fetch something, there’s always some store opened until late.”_

From his position haphazardly flopped on the bed, Yuzuru takes his gaze from the screen of his handheld console to look from the corner of his eye at his mother. Yumi’s just picking up her purse at the entrance of her son’s hotel room, coat draped over one arm. Yuzuru watches silently as she shuffles her shoes on, getting ready to leave.

_“Yes, I’m sure. I wasn’t that hungry, to begin with.”_

He glances back to the screen in front of his eyes, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, but still feels his mother’s knowing gaze assessing him. After a few moments of this stalemate, she gives up with an audible sigh, deciding to let him be.

_“Well, then. I’ll see you tomo-“_

She gets interrupted by a knock on the door. Yuzuru pauses his game just in time to see Yumi shoot him a pointed look before going to open it. There’re very few people who would call on them at this hour, and he’s got the feeling that she knows who she’s going to find on the other side.

She’s not disappointed.

“Hello, Javier.”

“Hello, Yumi.” Yuzuru can’t see his face with his mother blocking the doorway, but can perfectly picture the sheepish smile that accompanies the greeting from the tone of his voice. Javier may even be doing his bashful, stupidly charming head down and nape scratching routine; Yuzuru’s lips pull up from the corners, the smile automatic at the thought. “Is Yuzu here?”

“Yes. I leave now.” Stepping back, Yumi turns so Javier can see into the room. Yuzuru quickly goes back to his game, feigning disinterest. _“He might be a bit grumpy, though.”_

Yuzuru drops his console on his chest. _“Mom!”_

 _“Rest up and try to sleep, yes? I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.”_ With a last look at her pouty child, Yumi hitches her purse up her shoulder and smiles back at Javier. “Congratulations for win.”

Javier bows, automatically. “Thank you.”

With a last nod and a smile, Yumi passes by Javier and leaves them alone in the room, closing the door softly behind her. Yuzuru’s gone back to tapping buttons in silence, stalling the confrontation and giving himself a last moment to prepare before it happens.

He hears Javier taking off his shoes at the entrance, the soft sound of his bare feet on the carpet as he walks towards the bed.

Yuzuru groans in unison with him when Javier just drops onto the bed by his side, making them both bounce gracelessly on the mattress.

The remaining veneer of tension dissolves into thin air, like it was never there, and Yuzuru whines at Javier shuffling around to get comfortable and disturbing his gameplay in the process.

“Javi!”

The Spaniard ignores his glare and beams at him, finally settling on the covers and twiddling his thumbs over his belly. “Come on, were you planning on ignoring me for a videogame?”

“Not ignore you,” Yuzuru huffs, gaze back on the screen to un-pause the level. “Game just more interesting.”

“Yeah? What are you playing?”

“You not like.” Javier gets unceremoniously elbowed back when he leans into Yuzuru’s space to peek at the console. “Not shooting people.”

“Pity, then. I could use some of that right now.”

In the silence that spreads after Javier’s muted chuckle, Yuzuru reads the lingering frustration that follows an unsatisfying performance. He can still feel his own regret simmering beneath his skin, waiting under the surface for the opportunity to drag him into a downward spiral. He should’ve done more; he _wanted_ to do more. In the end, he only did what he could in that moment and it fell way short of the mark.

It still hurts. Not living up to his own expectations and objectives always does.

Yuzuru’s never liked losing, but considering the day’s circumstances, he’d bet Javier’s gold isn’t leaving a much better taste in his partner’s mouth than Yuzuru’s silver is doing in his.

There’s a strange but undeniable kind of comfort in that.

Javier’s voice has lost all traces of cheekiness when he speaks again, nudging him softly. “Hey, are you all right?”

Yuzuru glances at the other from the corner of his eye when he notices Javier gesturing at the ice pack strapped to his right knee. He sighs tiredly. “We think yes. This just in case.”

“You’re not in pain?”

The dull but persistent throbbing that had taken him from the ice and his jumps flashes through Yuzuru’s mind, almost a memory, now. No longer feeling like playing, he turns off his console and drops it in a drawer on the bedside table. “No, that much better. Fall more pain.” Settling back on the covers, he turns his head fully to look at his partner. “And Javi? Fall look bad.”

“Tell me about it,” Javier snorts, self-deprecatingly. “Nice bruise to add to the collection.”

For them, a bruise can be anything from a small thing, to the big, painful marks that are bone-deep and can mar their skin for weeks, changing colour like the seasons. Yuzuru scrunches his nose, eyeing Javier’s clothed hip with suspicion. “It bad? Have cream for that in bag.”

“Nah, don’t worry.” Javier waves his concern away, pulling up a smile to appease him. “I already put something on it. It’s more numb than anything, now.”

“Okay.”

“I will take anything you can give me for my wounded pride, though.”

Yuzuru snorts loudly. He can very much relate to the feeling.

“If I have, I take too.”

The stay silent for a bit, their breaths and the low hum of the humidifier the only noises in the room. It’s been a long day for them and it’s getting late, the night fully dark outside the windows and the atmosphere still, calm, like a moment suspended in time.

They drift together, be it because of the dips their bodies make on the bed or the strange pull of gravity they’ve always felt towards the other.

“Look at us. All mopey and grumpy even though we’ve won.”

Yuzuru takes offense at that, pinching the other on the ribs. “ _Javi_ win. I lose.”

“Okay, okay!” Javier has to wrestle him away, trying to protect his weak spots from Yuzuru’s fingers all the while. “But you didn’t lose either, you were second. It’s not that bad.”

“Yes, is bad,” Yuzuru grumbles. “I want win, always.”

“Well, I wanted to win too, and I did, and I don’t feel that much better about it, honestly.” Javier turns on his side, head propped on his fist to look down and meet Yuzuru’s baleful glare. “You are right, you know; when you say it doesn’t feel great to win just because everyone else failed more than you did.”

Yuzuru’s face softens, dropping the playful frustration that serves as a conduit for the very real frustration lurking underneath. Javier’s being open, sharing the raw parts of himself, and it makes him want to be candid in return.

“Maybe not proud, but you can be happy with win,” he says with a smile, hand rising to smooth over Javier’s cheek. His smile widens when the Spaniard leans into the contact, eyes falling closed. “Fight with head to save skate and win. I try to fight with head and lose.”

“You were overthinking again, weren’t you?”

Yuzuru’s mind flashes back to earlier in the rink, to all the little and not so little things that clouded up his vision and weighted him down until he lost sight of himself. He had to watch out for his knee, fighting a losing battle against a body with muscle memory that itched to jump a quad instead of a triple. He had to think quick on his feet, making calculations on the fly to try and save his score as the pops kept coming, each one leaving a handful of points behind, forever lost on the ice. He had been rushing, clawing desperately at the ideal, all the while knowing in his heart that the program had been lost since even before the first note of the flute filled the venue with sound.

He doesn’t answer, but Javier doesn’t need him to. He just understands without words, like he’s always done.

“Of course you were,” Javier sighs. His other hand brushes at Yuzuru’s temple, smoothing his hair behind his ear; it makes warmth spread from the middle of Yuzuru’s chest, his limbs tingling pleasantly with sensation. “That big brain of yours is both the worst and the best thing you’ve got going for you.”

“Not good like this, I _know_ not good like this,” Yuzuru grumbles, brow furrowed. “But sometimes I not know how to stop. And it makes frustration.”

“It sucks.”

“Yes. Is not new, I should be better by now.” Shaking his head to try and shake loose the bitter reproaches of his mind, Yuzuru turns the conversation back on Javier before his partner can ask him to elaborate. “What happen with you?”

Javier flops back onto the bed with a deep groan, covering his face with his hands. “You were watching, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know what happened.”

“Yes. You take too big vacation.” Yuzuru smirks at Javier’s expected glare. This is a familiar argument for them, comfortable and played up for laughs; they both know the other doesn’t mean anything by it. “Need more training, Javi.”

“I’m Spanish, Yuzu. I’ve told you I need my rest and my beach vacation, and since I can have neither with you, I need extra time off.” Javier’s dramatization gets a laugh out of the other and they both relax, their shoulders brushing together amicably. After the lightness of the moment dies down though, Javier gets serious again. “But yes, I do need more training. It’s early season for me and it’s normal that things are still rough around the edges, but I can’t get overconfident. Can’t just lose concentration like that.”

“First pancake?”

Yuzuru offers a handshake to seal the conversation, both their grievances with the competition day exposed and the process of dealing with them started. Javier’s smile grows from something small and self-deprecating to a beaming grin. He takes Yuzuru’s proffered hand into his, the contact warm and welcome.

“First pancake. Brian’s never living that one down.”

Yuzuru laughs, whole face scrunched up in merriment. “Nope!”

“How does he even come up with these things? Really,” Javier shrugs, still smiling. Afterwards, he taps Yuzuru softly on the thigh to get his attention back. “You can take that off by now, right?”

He nods towards the ice pack on Yuzuru’s knee, which is valiantly struggling to stay in place over the joint with all their repeated shuffling around. Yuzuru throws a quick look over Javier’s body at the alarm clock on the opposite bedside table, checking the time.

“Yes, it done. One moment.”

He makes a half-hearted attempt at sitting up, but falls back down onto the mattress when he sees Javier quickly moving to deal with it. “No, no, stay down. I can do it.”

Yuzuru can feel his face going soft with contentment as he watches Javier fuss over him, carefully undoing the tape holding everything together. The touch of his partner’s hands burns hot against his chilled skin, no matter how light. Once he’s finished, Javier leans down to drop a kiss over Yuzuru’s obligingly raised knee.

“For healing.”

“I remember, you tell me other time. But not sing crazy frog song.”

“I thought you liked my singing!” Javier exclaims, hand going to his chest in mock indignation. Yuzuru can’t help but laugh. “You’re always stalking me in the kitchen when I cook.”

“You sing normal songs when in kitchen, so is fine. I like. Frog song for healing is too weird.”

“ _You’re_ too weird.”

“But Javi still love me, yes?”

Yuzuru smiles like sunlight, happy, basking in the warm feeling that blossoms inside whenever Javier takes care of him. It happens often: Javier likes doing it, and Yuzuru’s always enjoyed being pampered and looked after.

“You know I do.” Javier reaches a hand to Yuzuru’s face, thumb still cool from the ice rubbing affectionately at the corner of Yuzuru’s eyebrow. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

The mattress complains when Javier rises, ice pack in hand, and pads over to the bathroom. Yuzuru takes the opportunity to stretch to his heart’s content, rolling around lazily and chasing the leftover warmth on his partner’s side of the bed. Once satisfied, he lies face down with his chin propped on his crossed forearms and takes stock of himself.

He’s still regretful about his performance in the free, those feelings won’t simply dissolve into thin air so soon, but he does feels better after commiserating with Javier. Sharing their misfortunes puts them into perspective, and makes them seem not as overwhelming.

Yes, he failed at delivering a good program; failed at bringing the spirit of Seimei to life once again. But he has to take into account that it was also his first outing of the season, a minor competition with much lower stakes, and his condition hadn’t been the best coming into it. The new world record in the short program was a nice surprise and tangible proof that all his summer training hadn’t been for nothing, that it was all still there, but afterwards he had let himself be swept into the mounting pressure of having to do it again.

Realistically, it was never going to happen, and that is fine. There’s no need for great heroics, yet.

 _It’s just like the first pancake_ , Brian had said. As weird as the analogy was, Yuzuru finds that it fits.

He takes a deep breath and makes peace with himself for the night.

“Move over, sleepyhead.”

Yuzuru feels Javier’s fingers tapping on the small of his back, the dip on the mattress when his partner puts his knee on to reach him in the middle. He pouts.

“Don’t wanna. I tired and bed very comfortable.”

“Is this you kicking me out for the night?” Javier chuckles, good-naturedly. “Because I’m not fighting with you for a spot on the bed when there’s a perfectly good one going unused in my room.”

“Shut up.” Rolling over onto his side, Yuzuru grabs a handful of Javier’s shirt and pulls sharply, making the other almost fall on his face next to him with a very undignified squeak. He smiles beatifically at Javier’s resigned glare. “Javi stay. We both sleep better.”

“You know you haven’t even kissed me hello since I came through the door?” complains Javier, shuffling closer and making himself comfortable on the pillows. “I’m starting to feel a bit neglected, over here.”

Yuzuru hums playfully and moves even closer, their noses touching at the tip and their breaths mingling. His gaze drops slowly to Javier’s lips and his tongue comes out to wet his own in an automatic gesture. “You not kiss me, too.”

“Yes, I did.” Yuzuru feels Javier’s hand make the journey from his side, over his hip and down the side of his thigh, to finally reach intended destination and tap pointedly at his right knee. “I kissed you right here.”

“That not count.”

Javier’s grin only grows at the indignant tone and Yuzuru decides he has to kiss him right then, further teasing be damned, because it will make him breathe easier through the way his heart seems to be uncontrollably swelling against his chest.

He softens into the contact almost as soon as he pushes for it, wanting just the warm feeling of lips on lips and the sense of closeness that comes with it. Javier welcomes him with a soft hand on his neck, the touch soothing and familiar; Yuzuru snakes an arm around the other’s waist to pull them as close as possible, entangling their legs over the bedcovers.

They trade loving kisses for a long while, alternating the more playful pecks with the kind of soul-deep kisses that grab at them and threaten to leave a part of themselves behind with the other when they’re done. It’s a languid exchange, no rush to be had at the end on a long day, and no pulsing desire to take it further.

Just them, alone at last with everything said and done. Taking and giving comfort. Recalibrating each other.

Just kissing.

“I love you. It sometimes frustrating to compete with you, but I still love you.”

The declaration comes bursting from Yuzuru. He doesn’t say it in that many words as often as Javier does, still has trouble gathering the courage to say it in his native Japanese at all, but that doesn’t mean the feeling is not always there, straining at his seams.

Fortunately, Javier doesn’t push. And he always understands.

“I know, _cariño_. I love you, too.”

Yuzuru smiles sweetly, closing his eyes as Javier brushes one last kiss on his forehead.

“Sleep now?”

“Yes.”

While they stand off from the bed to turn back the covers, Javier’s gaze catches on the piece of origami sitting on the bedside table, next to the velvet box containing Yuzuru’s medal.

“What’s that?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Sitting against the headboard, Yuzuru reaches for the piece of paper with careful fingers, rubbing over one of its folds with a small smile before offering it to Javier to inspect. “A wish from fans.”

“The ‘you fold a bunch of paper cranes and your wish becomes true’ thing? But this is a swan, right?” Yuzuru nods in response, watching as Javier turns the origami this way and that, taking care not to damage it. The swan’s golden neck glints in the low light of their bedside lamps. “How does that work?”

“Tracy say fans think swan is more like me, so they make swans. I think is nice. I like.”

“I see what they mean.” Javier looks up at him, eyes bright. There’s a deep kind of adoration in his face, and Yuzuru can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks inevitably at that. “The swan does suit you better, you make a beautiful one.” Then, with a mischievous look, Javier lifts the origami piece between their faces and declares, proudly “see? Same extra-long neck. You’re practically twins!”

Yuzuru tackles him down onto the bed with a vengeance.

“Javi!”

“Respect the swan!” cackles the Spaniard, keeping said swan safely out of reach of their tussling. “It’s a gift made with love and must be protected at all costs!”

“Give back!”

“Hey! Lay off on the aggressive pinching, will you? You’re going to give me more bruises.”

Yuzuru finally gets back the origami and pokes Javier’s shoulder one last time for good measure, still chuckling himself. “Your fault.”

“Worth it.”

“ _Baka._ ”

Yuzuru stretches to put the swan back on its place on the bedside table, Javier settling down between the covers at his back. He spends a moment looking at it, eyes fixed on the golden foil of its neck. Standing in proud contrast to the silver colour of the medal that rests inside the box next to it, Yuzuru believes he gets the meaning behind the gesture.

He turns off the lights and lies back down next to Javier with a smile, cuddling up to him and arranging their limbs around each other for maximum comfort.

“You’re not going to tell me about that wish? Must be good, since it’s got you smiling like a doofus.”

“You can’t see me smile in the dark.”

“No, but I still know and can hear it in your voice. So?”

Yuzuru ponders what to say for a minute, how to convey something so small and yet so meaningful. He settles on simplicity, because he trusts his partner will read between the lines. “Sure you can guess.”

Javier pulls him in a bit closer, nuzzling at his hair. It tickles when he sighs, and Yuzuru knows they’re thinking about the same thing. “Yeah, I can guess. Hope both our wishes come true.”

“I hope too. Pray for both.”

“We’ll see in February, right?”

Yuzuru answers the pressure of lips over his hair with his own kiss over Javier’s collarbone.

“We see in February.”

At last, he gives into the warm embrace of his partner and the tiredness of his body, falling easily into a deep sleep.

That night, as many before it and many still to come, Yuzuru dreams of gold.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> \- No paper swans were harmed in the making of this fic.
> 
> \- Also, the "healing frog song" is a reference to the traditional _"sana sanita, culito de rana, si no sana hoy, sanará mañana"_ that is sung mostly to young children. Its use is widespread to many Spanish-speaking countries :)
> 
> I hoped you all enjoyed! <3
> 
> (ETA: You can now find me on twitter [@Valkedictorian](https://twitter.com/Valkedictorian) or on [Curious Cat!](https://curiouscat.me/Valkedictorian))


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